I stepped outside, lit a cigarette, and stared down the street as smoke curled in front of my face.
Tempi was safe.Still mine.
But the cost of keeping her that way was rising by the day.
I dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath my boot.
“Let ‘em come,” I muttered.“Let ‘em see what salvation looks like when you try to take it from me.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tempi
I dimmed the lights in the Badger’s Den until the overheads glowed like candlelight.
The chairs were flipped onto tables, floor swept, and the register locked.It was well past closing, but I wasn’t in any rush to leave.Method had done his walk-around and radioed that everything was quiet outside.He was sitting on his bike out front, stationed nearby in case anything went awry.But inside?
It was just me and Twister.
And right now, that felt like the safest place in the world.
The jukebox in the corner lit up.I walked toward it in my socks because I was just over wearing shoes for the night.My toes curled against the worn wood planks as I flipped through the songs.My fingers hovered when I landed on one of my Halestorm playlists.I tapped“The Silence”without hesitation.
The first haunting chords drifted through the air, slow, raw, almost too honest.
I turned around.
He was watching me from the middle of the bar, one hip leaning against a table with his arms crossed over his chest.His cut was off, tossed over a chair, and his black T-shirt stretched across his chest like it was part of him.His hair was damp from a shower, and curled slightly at the edges.And the way his eyes tracked me?
Like I was the only goddamn thing he wanted in this world.
“Dance with me?”I asked, my voice quiet but certain.
He pushed off the table and walked toward me with unhurried steps.Each one heavy, deliberate.Like he wanted me to feel him coming before he even touched me.
I did.
Twister reached me just as Lzzy’s voice settled into the chorus.He didn’t speak.He just slid one arm around my waist and tugged me against him.
We swayed together, my hands curling into the front of his shirt.My cheek pressed to his chest.His scent was clean, warm, and uniquely his: leather, cedar, and soap.I could feel the beat of his heart against my cheek.Steady.Solid.Mine.
“You okay?”he murmured against the top of my head.
“Better than okay,” I whispered.“You?”
“Getting there.”
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.“You know what this is, right?”
“What?”
“This.”His hand brushed down my spine, resting low.“You and me.It’s not casual, Tempi.”
“I know,” I breathed.“You’ve mentioned it,” I laughed.
“I was just reminding you,” he said and pressed his lips to my forehead.“’Cause I’m not planning on letting you go.”
The words sank into my bones, curling around every anxious edge in my chest.He wasn’t just saying it.He meant it.
